"Small Potatoes"
Luke 1:46-55
On February 16, 1955, a team of surveyors in the Soviet Union surprised the world. They made the announcement that a previously uncharted mountain had just been discovered in Siberia. I guess not many people vacation in Siberia, unless you are sent there on a government excursion of indefinite duration. Out in Siberia it is cold and slow going. Not too many people who go there get out much to see anything. Even so, the discovery of this hitherto uncharted mountain is certainly amazing. Especially since the mountain was 24,664 feet high. How could anything so massive be overlooked for so long?
Often, the things we overlook are not that huge. But they may be just as startling. Our lives are mostly hustle and bustle, taking care of written or unwritten lists of details. When we get through with one list, we start all over. Another is created. It seems we have to take care of so many things in order that we not miss anything. Sometimes things get lost in the daily shuffle. Like priorities. That’s the way it is. The more significant things keep getting pushed aside for less important items.
In our push to get done what we have to get done, we overlook some things. Mostly, I think, we overlook people. Think about it: while doing your Christmas shopping, for example, with your list in hand, how many people do you bump shoulders with? You are completing your tasks, but how many faces do you pass doing those tasks? You may or may not glance into their faces. You don’t know them. You’ve never seen them before; you’ll probably never see them again. Imagine what you may be overlooking. Or, should I say, WHO you might be overlooking.
Stanley Marcus, former chairman of the Newman-Marcus store in Dallas, Texas, told about a customer who once wrote him a letter. The letter read:
There’s a very nice-looking elderly woman whom I frequently see in your store. She picks the dead leaves from the plants throughout the store. Surely you can find a better position for a person such as her.
Marcus wrote back to the customer thanking her for expressing her concern. He explained in his reply, “...the only higher rank the woman could have would be my job. The woman to whom you are referring is my mother, Mrs. Robert Marcus, Sr., now age 93, and a member of the Board of Directors.”
How many people had just walked past this mountain of a woman—this leaf-picking member of the Board of Directors? To our eyes, and in the midst of our plodding through our days, most people seem insignificant. Small potatoes. But in God’s eyes, and in God’s plan, they may loom as large as uncharted and hitherto unnoticed mountains.
We are so familiar with the Christmas story and its characters, we plow through it, thinking we know everyone, the role they play, and so we don’t feel we have to take as much notice. How many times have we heard this story already!?
Today, all the people in the Christmas story are seen for their importance. We are looking at the Christmas story from the perspective of those who know the outcome. We can’t read these parts of the gospel of Luke or Matthew without assuming we know all about Mary and Joseph, Elizabeth and Zechariah, the shepherds, and “O Little Town of Bethlehem.”
We miss how important they are, though, unless we can force ourselves to see these characters with pre-stable, pre-star, pre-wise men eyes.
I may have told the story about the Kurt Vonnegut novel, Slapstick. His books usually have a surprising bite to them, and full of satire and social commentary. In this book, there are two female characters. One is a shopping bag lady who roams the streets of New York City at night. She carries everything she owns in her shopping bags. She lives in a large cardboard box during the night.
The other woman is described only within the smart surroundings of a fashionable, uptown, corporate boardroom. She is the owner and Chief Executive Officer of a huge corporation. It isn’t until the end of the novel that you begin to realize that the two ladies are actually one and the same person.
Then you go back through the novel, thinking about how the woman was treated in each of her surroundings, knowing she led a double life. The reader’s perspective all of a sudden changes about the shopping bag lady, who has been ignored and overlooked while on the streets. Even some of the big-whigs who did business with her in the corporate board rooms mistreated her, or took no notice of her while they passed by this bag lady.
That is what I want us to see, or the way I want us to see the Christmas story. Let’s take Joseph and Mary for example. Today, there isn’t a Christian alive who doesn’t know who Mary and Joseph are. I would dare say that even a lot of non-Christians recognize their names, at least at Christmastime.
But how many knew Joseph and Mary back then? Do you remember those old American Express credit card commercials. Somebody would be shown, they’d ask the viewer, “Do you know me?” Then they’d hold up their American Express card, and we’d figure out who they were. I don’t think an American Express card would have gotten Mary and Joseph recognized, nor secure a room at the inn. They were a shopping bag couple. They were the kind of people we see, but really don’t see. Think of all the people we go through life seeing, but never really see. Some of those people just might be Mary and Josephs.
Even those closest to us have a way of being taken for granted. We look across the dining room table, and assume the other person who is looking back at us is someone we know. And yet, in reality, we have missed something here, overlooked something there, and made many assumptions in between. We see, but we really don’t see, even those closest to us.
So why should it be any different with all the Mary and Joseph’s that go by us each day. Insignificant faces in a crowd, looking for a room. Looking for attention. Looking for a face that will look back—really look back—with some kind of acknowledgement that someone is really seeing them.
The incongruities can be alarming when we think of Mary. Here is a young woman whom God has visited through an angel. Here is a young woman who bears within her the Savior of the world. Here is a young woman whose every move must have been watched by every angel in heaven. But, here is a young woman who couldn’t get anyone else to look at her long enough to see, really see, who she was, what her needs were, what her mission was.
Have you ever been told, “You are special simply because God created you,” but then wondered if God can see you are so special, why others don’t see you that way?
In the movie, “Close Encounters Of The Third Kind,” French movie director Francois Truffaut plays the part of a scientist trying to communicate with extra-terrestrial visitors. In real life, he is not particularly interested in UFO’s. He said, “The encounters one has in real life are so mysterious, so difficult to handle successfully, they are enough to satisfy my curiosity.”
He went on to give an example:
The creatures from outer space in “Close Encounters” were played by children. To us, they looked identical in their costumes. But they would recognize each other, and from time-to-time, we’d see two of them give each other a high five, or put their arms around each other’s waists. That was beautiful.
In that kind of childlike innocence there was true seeing. There was recognition beyond the exterior.
“Why doesn’t anybody notice me?” you might ask yourself. “Why must I fight for recognition, so that people will notice who I really am?” Or, “You’re OK God, and I know you are with me always, and it’s not that I dislike your companionship, but I’d like to feel welcomed by at least a couple of people, too.”
That was Joseph and Mary before the birth. Now, everyone knows them, and really sees them for who they are. And, maybe, that was you or I before whatever it is that may happen, that will make those around us finally notice us for who we are. Because that’s one of the lessons, isn’t it? That it is the “you or I’s” in the world, the small potatoes, the shopping bag people, the overlooked, who just may be those with mountainous characteristics and roles to play in the world. It is the neglected innocents who God has chosen, and will continue to choose to make the great changes in our world.
As Mary sang:
God has scattered those who are proud...
God has brought down rulers from their thrones,
and has exalted those who are humble.
God has filled the hungry with good things,
And sent away the rich empty-handed.
So, if you are looking for the newsmakers, the ones who are going to have a lasting impact on this world of ours, don’t look at summit meetings. Don’t look in the White House or the Kremlin. Instead, it will be one of the faces you passed in the crowd. One of the faces you saw, but really didn’t see.
If you are looking for the places out of which the great trends of the future will be determined, don’t look in New York City, or Washington, or Moscow, or North Korea. Instead, it will be in one of those towns so small their motto is, “You don’t need to use your turn signal; we already know where you’re going.”
If we are looking for God’s big potatoes—the people God is using for grand plans—all we need to do is pay closer attention to the small potatoes.
Monday, December 18, 2017
Monday, December 11, 2017
Making A Change
"Making A Change"
Mark 1:1-8
What is the hardest thing for a person to do? What would be your guess? (responses)
I think the hardest thing for a person to do is change. But I’m talking about a certain kind of change. There are a number of kinds of changes.
There is straightforward change, like changing your car, or changing your hairstyle, or deciding on making a change of clothes.
There is changing something you do, and relearning a new way; like changing your golf swing or learning a new style of carpentry.
There is changing something that obviously needs changing, but you either don’t want to, or you can’t quite see how it could be done. This kind of change usually involves a habit--smoking for example. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t seem to make the change and stop.
There is the kind of change that’s imposed upon you, and over which you appear to have little or no control. This kind of change often feels like suffering, and the suffering may be real, especially when the change is caused by a medical prognosis like cancer, or lupus, or MS. We have no say in the matter, and it feels like something is being done to us, or someone is doing it to us. Companion feelings like being cheated or unfairness tag along. When change is forced upon us, we can easily feel disempowered by the experience.
The first three kinds of change we deal with, in one form or another, almost every day. We make little changes all the time. You may never completely give up smoking voluntarily (until the doctor tells you you have lung cancer), but at least it’s a kind of change you are conscious of. You can choose fairly easily how you will deal with the first three kinds of changes, and even the fourth kind--forced change.
But making those kinds of changes, for the most part, isn’t going to fundamentally change your life. And when I say making change is the hardest thing a person can do, these first four kinds of change are not not what I’m talking about.
What I’m talking about is a fifth kind of change: changing something we absolutely, positively know we can’t and don’t want to change. This kind of change is about our beliefs. This kind of change is a confrontational kind, because it rubs up against the beliefs and truths we’ve created for ourselves that underpin our whole lives.
This type of change asks, either gently or by demand, that we change a dearly and closely held point of view. It’s a kind of change that challenges us to adopt a way of seeing the world that is at odds, or very different with the the way we are used to seeing our world. It’s a matter of changing our world view.
This kind of change, this fifth kind, this seemingly impossible kind of change, is the kind of change that John the baptizer is demanding the people make, in order to prepare for God’s entrance into the world through Jesus Christ.
Even the imagery from the prophetic quote in these first few verses of Mark’s gospel has to do with this kind of change: “Make the road smooth and straight.” The assumption behind the image is that the road is not as it should be at the moment. That the road is not smooth, but bumpy, pot-holed, rocky and washerboardy. That the road is not straight, but windy, curvy, and irregular.
The imagery is about making the road what it is not; to effect a major change upon the road that would make it starkly and characteristically different. That would make it unrecognizable from what it was before.
Transfer that imagery to your life. Think about the meanings of the changes of the road, to making changes to your world view. That’s the force and purpose and intent of John’s message of preparation and change to the people on the eve of the coming of the Messiah.
John expects change to happen, or expects that change should happen in the lives of his listeners. The changes he speaks about to the crowds, and the change he expects them to make aren’t just little tweaks here and there. They aren’t about the first four kinds of change I mentioned earlier. It isn’t like just saying to yourself, “I’m going to smile more.” They aren’t surface kinds of adjustments, like changing your hair color.
The kinds of changes John expects from his listeners are deep life-shifts. They are changes like the changes to the road, that transform you from one kind of person to becoming a significantly different kind of person—by changing your world view.
And John assumes these kinds of changes are entirely possible, else he wouldn’t have asked people to make such changes.
If it is possible for us to make such changes, then it is possible also for us to resist making those changes. John can preach, and rant and rave all he wants about the deep changes people need to make, but the people can say, “No.” “I just can’t.” “I just won’t”
I dealt with a couple in counseling when in California. He was an abusive alcoholic. She was tired of it and hauled him into my office “to set him straight.” We talked for a short while about his drinking and behavior. We talked about making changes. Once we started talking about the C word (change), he got defensive and blaming. In a word, resistant. He started up a monologue that was all too familiar to his wife, by the expression I saw on her face.
“Look, this is the way I am. I’m going to be like I’m going to be. If you don’t like it--if you don’t like me the way I am, that’s YOUR problem, not mine. You’re not going to change me, so you’re going to have to change YOUR attitude about me.”
In other words, according to him, his abuse both of alcohol and of his wife was not his problem, but hers (and by inference, mine). He resisted the major world view shift he needed to make away from some deeply held beliefs about himself and his situation in life. The first shift was to deal with his denial (“I have no problem!”); and then with his blame (“If there’s a problem it has to do with her, not him.”).
One side of resistance to change has to do with control. We want control of our lives. If we are told by someone we need to change, and that someone tells us what we need to change, then we are giving them control to effect and have power over the direction of our lives. But our need to be in control, and to be so self-entrenched, is an awful way to live that causes blind spots about the kinds of people we are. We don’t want to give up that kind of control, even if it’s John the baptizer, or the Lord who is asking us to make that kind of life shift. Our desire for control is largely at the heart of our resistance to change.
I’ve also read that in counseling situations, the greater the resistance by the person being counseled, the closer you’re getting to that person’s pain. No one wants to confront their pain, so they resist any effort to get close to it. I thought it interesting that personal pain is linked to resistance to making significant change. Dealing with the pain in our lives, facing our painful memories or feelings, healing the open and ongoing wounds to our spirits, and courageously dealing with that pain could free us up to then make significant changes in our approach to life.
Maybe that’s what John was talking about when he told the people that the Messiah “will change you from the inside out.” That is, the Coming Savior will deal with us where we hurt most. And by taking care of that pain, by letting him inside our pain, he will then free our spirits to make great changes in life. To make life smooth and straight, so that his coming into our lives is an easier process.
Even though the outcome of change will be a smoother and straighter life, our pain, which in turn creates low self-esteem, limits and restricts our willingness to change. Letting go of our pain, transforming our low self-esteem are hard nuts to crack, and may seem impossible for us. The reason is that we allow these negative self-belief systems and patterns of pain to become stronger in us than the evidence and promise of positive changes. We have held on to misguided and deeply held negative beliefs a lot longer than we should have. Because they have been part of us for so long, we just assume we should continue in them, and die with them, rather than experience the straightening and smoothing John speaks of.
Whatever John was telling the people, it’s clear he’s making the assumption that people need to make a change. People need to be changed if the coming Messiah is to be understood, recognized and embraced by us.
But, as I said from the outset of this message, change is one of the scariest words we hear, and one of the hardest things to do. We are more comfortable with pattern and routine. We set the patterns of our thinking, values, and beliefs very quickly. Just as quickly, they become deeply set. To make a change feels like it’s just asking too much. We’re giving up too much; giving up something we’ve held on to for so long. And now someone is telling us we need to let go of it, heal it, and discard it. We intuitively know that to make such a change will hurt.
We don’t like change because we don’t like the disorientation part of letting go, discarding and healing. Sometimes the disorientation happens to us, like when God tried to changed the people’s hearts through the Exodus from Egypt, or the Exile into Babylon.
But the kind of disorientation that John is asking of his audience is a “self-inflicted” kind of disorientation, where you must choose to embrace a major change, and thus embrace the disorientation that comes with it.
The question people may ask themselves when challenged to make such a change and enter a period of disorientation is, “Why? Why would I do that to myself?” Plus, such a change won’t just affect you. It will affect the whole system of relationships around you. When one person makes a life-change, everyone close to them must now change. “Why,” you may ask yourself, “would I not only put myself through the disruption of making a major change of my world view, but also to those around me whom I care about?”
Take for example Paul. When he had his encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus that day, and changed the whole direction and meaning of his life, think of all the people that change had a ripple effect upon. He was probably married. What happened to his marriage relationship when he became a Christian? Any children? We don’t know. If so, their life was changed that day as well. What about all the other Jewish leaders who were backing Paul, had taught Paul, had mentored Paul. All those relationships made a major shift as well, the day Paul gave into the summons of God, and shifted his world view about his religious beliefs in a whole new way in response to Christ.
Even though John’s summons to change seems huge, seems like he’s asking way too much, seems like maybe we’ve piled up too much to sweep away, lived too long in some set of beliefs that just haven’t worked but were held on to anyway, we still have to respond. It is possible. It can be done. The Lord can enter your life and change you from the inside out, straighten out what’s crooked, smooth out what’s been pot-holed for way too long. This kind of life-shift change is possible. It’s needed. It’s necessary. End the resistance. Just say to God, “OK. I’m ready.”
Mark 1:1-8
What is the hardest thing for a person to do? What would be your guess? (responses)
I think the hardest thing for a person to do is change. But I’m talking about a certain kind of change. There are a number of kinds of changes.
There is straightforward change, like changing your car, or changing your hairstyle, or deciding on making a change of clothes.
There is changing something you do, and relearning a new way; like changing your golf swing or learning a new style of carpentry.
There is changing something that obviously needs changing, but you either don’t want to, or you can’t quite see how it could be done. This kind of change usually involves a habit--smoking for example. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t seem to make the change and stop.
There is the kind of change that’s imposed upon you, and over which you appear to have little or no control. This kind of change often feels like suffering, and the suffering may be real, especially when the change is caused by a medical prognosis like cancer, or lupus, or MS. We have no say in the matter, and it feels like something is being done to us, or someone is doing it to us. Companion feelings like being cheated or unfairness tag along. When change is forced upon us, we can easily feel disempowered by the experience.
The first three kinds of change we deal with, in one form or another, almost every day. We make little changes all the time. You may never completely give up smoking voluntarily (until the doctor tells you you have lung cancer), but at least it’s a kind of change you are conscious of. You can choose fairly easily how you will deal with the first three kinds of changes, and even the fourth kind--forced change.
But making those kinds of changes, for the most part, isn’t going to fundamentally change your life. And when I say making change is the hardest thing a person can do, these first four kinds of change are not not what I’m talking about.
What I’m talking about is a fifth kind of change: changing something we absolutely, positively know we can’t and don’t want to change. This kind of change is about our beliefs. This kind of change is a confrontational kind, because it rubs up against the beliefs and truths we’ve created for ourselves that underpin our whole lives.
This type of change asks, either gently or by demand, that we change a dearly and closely held point of view. It’s a kind of change that challenges us to adopt a way of seeing the world that is at odds, or very different with the the way we are used to seeing our world. It’s a matter of changing our world view.
This kind of change, this fifth kind, this seemingly impossible kind of change, is the kind of change that John the baptizer is demanding the people make, in order to prepare for God’s entrance into the world through Jesus Christ.
Even the imagery from the prophetic quote in these first few verses of Mark’s gospel has to do with this kind of change: “Make the road smooth and straight.” The assumption behind the image is that the road is not as it should be at the moment. That the road is not smooth, but bumpy, pot-holed, rocky and washerboardy. That the road is not straight, but windy, curvy, and irregular.
The imagery is about making the road what it is not; to effect a major change upon the road that would make it starkly and characteristically different. That would make it unrecognizable from what it was before.
Transfer that imagery to your life. Think about the meanings of the changes of the road, to making changes to your world view. That’s the force and purpose and intent of John’s message of preparation and change to the people on the eve of the coming of the Messiah.
John expects change to happen, or expects that change should happen in the lives of his listeners. The changes he speaks about to the crowds, and the change he expects them to make aren’t just little tweaks here and there. They aren’t about the first four kinds of change I mentioned earlier. It isn’t like just saying to yourself, “I’m going to smile more.” They aren’t surface kinds of adjustments, like changing your hair color.
The kinds of changes John expects from his listeners are deep life-shifts. They are changes like the changes to the road, that transform you from one kind of person to becoming a significantly different kind of person—by changing your world view.
And John assumes these kinds of changes are entirely possible, else he wouldn’t have asked people to make such changes.
If it is possible for us to make such changes, then it is possible also for us to resist making those changes. John can preach, and rant and rave all he wants about the deep changes people need to make, but the people can say, “No.” “I just can’t.” “I just won’t”
I dealt with a couple in counseling when in California. He was an abusive alcoholic. She was tired of it and hauled him into my office “to set him straight.” We talked for a short while about his drinking and behavior. We talked about making changes. Once we started talking about the C word (change), he got defensive and blaming. In a word, resistant. He started up a monologue that was all too familiar to his wife, by the expression I saw on her face.
“Look, this is the way I am. I’m going to be like I’m going to be. If you don’t like it--if you don’t like me the way I am, that’s YOUR problem, not mine. You’re not going to change me, so you’re going to have to change YOUR attitude about me.”
In other words, according to him, his abuse both of alcohol and of his wife was not his problem, but hers (and by inference, mine). He resisted the major world view shift he needed to make away from some deeply held beliefs about himself and his situation in life. The first shift was to deal with his denial (“I have no problem!”); and then with his blame (“If there’s a problem it has to do with her, not him.”).
One side of resistance to change has to do with control. We want control of our lives. If we are told by someone we need to change, and that someone tells us what we need to change, then we are giving them control to effect and have power over the direction of our lives. But our need to be in control, and to be so self-entrenched, is an awful way to live that causes blind spots about the kinds of people we are. We don’t want to give up that kind of control, even if it’s John the baptizer, or the Lord who is asking us to make that kind of life shift. Our desire for control is largely at the heart of our resistance to change.
I’ve also read that in counseling situations, the greater the resistance by the person being counseled, the closer you’re getting to that person’s pain. No one wants to confront their pain, so they resist any effort to get close to it. I thought it interesting that personal pain is linked to resistance to making significant change. Dealing with the pain in our lives, facing our painful memories or feelings, healing the open and ongoing wounds to our spirits, and courageously dealing with that pain could free us up to then make significant changes in our approach to life.
Maybe that’s what John was talking about when he told the people that the Messiah “will change you from the inside out.” That is, the Coming Savior will deal with us where we hurt most. And by taking care of that pain, by letting him inside our pain, he will then free our spirits to make great changes in life. To make life smooth and straight, so that his coming into our lives is an easier process.
Even though the outcome of change will be a smoother and straighter life, our pain, which in turn creates low self-esteem, limits and restricts our willingness to change. Letting go of our pain, transforming our low self-esteem are hard nuts to crack, and may seem impossible for us. The reason is that we allow these negative self-belief systems and patterns of pain to become stronger in us than the evidence and promise of positive changes. We have held on to misguided and deeply held negative beliefs a lot longer than we should have. Because they have been part of us for so long, we just assume we should continue in them, and die with them, rather than experience the straightening and smoothing John speaks of.
Whatever John was telling the people, it’s clear he’s making the assumption that people need to make a change. People need to be changed if the coming Messiah is to be understood, recognized and embraced by us.
But, as I said from the outset of this message, change is one of the scariest words we hear, and one of the hardest things to do. We are more comfortable with pattern and routine. We set the patterns of our thinking, values, and beliefs very quickly. Just as quickly, they become deeply set. To make a change feels like it’s just asking too much. We’re giving up too much; giving up something we’ve held on to for so long. And now someone is telling us we need to let go of it, heal it, and discard it. We intuitively know that to make such a change will hurt.
We don’t like change because we don’t like the disorientation part of letting go, discarding and healing. Sometimes the disorientation happens to us, like when God tried to changed the people’s hearts through the Exodus from Egypt, or the Exile into Babylon.
But the kind of disorientation that John is asking of his audience is a “self-inflicted” kind of disorientation, where you must choose to embrace a major change, and thus embrace the disorientation that comes with it.
The question people may ask themselves when challenged to make such a change and enter a period of disorientation is, “Why? Why would I do that to myself?” Plus, such a change won’t just affect you. It will affect the whole system of relationships around you. When one person makes a life-change, everyone close to them must now change. “Why,” you may ask yourself, “would I not only put myself through the disruption of making a major change of my world view, but also to those around me whom I care about?”
Take for example Paul. When he had his encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus that day, and changed the whole direction and meaning of his life, think of all the people that change had a ripple effect upon. He was probably married. What happened to his marriage relationship when he became a Christian? Any children? We don’t know. If so, their life was changed that day as well. What about all the other Jewish leaders who were backing Paul, had taught Paul, had mentored Paul. All those relationships made a major shift as well, the day Paul gave into the summons of God, and shifted his world view about his religious beliefs in a whole new way in response to Christ.
Even though John’s summons to change seems huge, seems like he’s asking way too much, seems like maybe we’ve piled up too much to sweep away, lived too long in some set of beliefs that just haven’t worked but were held on to anyway, we still have to respond. It is possible. It can be done. The Lord can enter your life and change you from the inside out, straighten out what’s crooked, smooth out what’s been pot-holed for way too long. This kind of life-shift change is possible. It’s needed. It’s necessary. End the resistance. Just say to God, “OK. I’m ready.”
Monday, December 4, 2017
Keeping Watch
"Keeping Watch"
Mark 13:32-37
I'm guessing, from what little history I've read, the world has always been crazy. And by world, I mean people. Animals can just be animals. Plants can just be plants. They seem to exist by different rules than we humans do. Animals have instincts. Plants have photosynthesis.
But we humans. We have free will. We have hormones. We have emotions. We have imaginations. We have drives. We have motivations. There's so much that goes into being human, and all of that can end up being one big bad.
I wonder if in any and every era, the people of that time think, "Man, can it get any worse than it is now?" Do we all wonder if we live in the worst of times? As Charles Dickens started his book, Tale of Two Cities, from a previous era:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…
And that's the trouble. It's all a mix. It's not all bad. But it certainly is not all good either.
Just prior to the statements Jesus makes that were read in Mark 13, he talks about "that day and hour," and "in those days" and, "at that time." Jesus went on to describe what those days and hours and times will be like.
It will be a mix. The bad part of the mix is how everything falls apart. This is how Jesus described it:
the sun will be darkened
the moon will not shine
the stars will fall from the sky
the heavenly bodies will be shaken
In other words, the world is going to be like a completed jigsaw puzzle that is broken apart, separated back into individual pieces, put back in the box, and shelved.
I have the idea that Jesus was not just talking about the literal elements of our universe. Certainly, it would be catastrophic if the sun didn't shine. All of our sources of food would die with no sun light, and we would be frozen to death from no warmth. The stars falling and the heavenly bodies being shaken is a description of total destabilization. Think of it…we measure and gauge everything we call permanent by the stars and planets and heavenly bodies. People, ever since there were people have been looking up at this stars and seeing the same thing. We have devised time itself (not only on our watches, but on our calendars) by the sun and the moon. To lose the sun and moon would be to lose total track of time.
But there's another way to look at Jesus' statements. Especially that "the stars will fall from the sky." How many "stars" have fallen in the last weeks, due to sexual misconduct? How many of the mighty have fallen?
Jesus was right when he said in one of the other gospels, "What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight. What you have whispered to someone behind closed doors will be shouted from the rooftops" (Luke 12:3). What are we learning from all the women who are now shouting from the rooftops about what has happened to them in secret at the hands of men we may have admired or looked up to for leadership and a good word?
The stars are truly falling from the sky. But have such stars not always fallen from their lofty perches? Donald Trump may have thought he was right, when he was caught on tape, making his own lewd comments to Billy Bush about his sexual attitude towards women: Trump said, "When you're a star, they (meaning women) let you do it. You can do anything." Is that how all the "stars" think? That they have some sort of entitlement!? Enamored by their own twinkling?
But what Jesus said was, when you're a star, you will fall from the sky, and it will be your worst day, leading to an even worse life. You can't do anything you want. There are consequences. You will fall. You who think you are stars.
And as Humpty Dumpty found out after his "great fall," "…all the king's men and all the king's horses couldn't put Humpty together again."
Three times in his little sermon, Jesus used the word, "watch." Whenever a word is used a number of times, you better pay attention. Which is what the word "watch" means. Pay attention. Be vigilant. Be awake. Be alert. Always give your full attention. Watch!
Jesus contrasted the word, "watch" with the word, "asleep." It's a powerful word. It doesn't mean just sleeping. In the case of this word, being asleep means giving in to a certain laziness about your faith. To be asleep means being lazy towards the sin that tempts you throughout your life. Being asleep means being indifferent about your salvation. Being asleep means being spiritually dead.
Being indifferent means succumbing to a low interest about your beliefs. Being indifferent means having only a smidgen of concern about your spiritual self. Being indifferent means not caring deeply about much of anything, let alone your faith. Being indifferent means being apathetic about your salvation No big deal.
This is an easy season to become lazy and indifferent to our faith. It's an easy time to lose total attention to the depth of the true story of Christmas. This is an easy time to take a shallow dive, stay just below the surface where the alternate story has no real, or lasting consequence in your life. During that time where we allow ourselves to be immersed in the alternate reality of the secular Christmas stories, we get truly lulled to sleep.
We fall asleep from the story of Santa and the elves, rather than remain fully awake and vigilant to the angels who sing out Good News. We fall asleep as we float on the surface stories about Rudolph's red nose guiding Santa's sleigh rather than remaining alert to the depth of the story of a guiding star, leading three wisemen to the Christ-child. We fall asleep in the dreamy mythology of the North Pole, rather than immerse ourselves in the watchfulness of a small town place called Bethlehem. We fall asleep waiting for Santa rather than give our full attention to the birth of the blessed Christ child, the Savior of the World. We are more worried about what the Elf on the Shelf thinks of us rather than be alert to the ever watchful God who has totally immersed himself in this story and into our world at Christmas.
It is so easy to be lulled asleep this time of year, than being at high alert. To fall asleep, in all its meanings, is to succumb to our own peril. So, being watchful has to do with two fronts. We have to be watchful for the Lord's coming. And we have to be on the alert for any form of calamity of sin we so easily sleep into that would keep us from seeing Jesus.
Jesus said, in this sermon, to be watchful for the "master of the house." The word literally means Lord. It describes the one to whom a person or a thing belongs. The owner—the Lord—is the one who has ultimate control. The Lord is the one who has the power to decide.
In Jesus’ sermon, in this parable, Jesus describes a time when the owner goes away, putting others in charge. Those others are us. The faithful. The obedient. The followers. The ones owned. The ones who, presumably, know our place. Who feel no sense of entitlement, thinking we can grab whomever and whatever we want. Who know we are not stars who can do as we please, but who wish only to do as our Lord pleases.
We are in that time when the Lord of the place is away. During his time away, we have responsibility for the owners work. We are in that in-between time. We are in that odd time between yet, and not yet. We are waiting for the owner to return. We are to live in such a way that we are watchful for the Lord's return, and live as if we are watchful and not asleep.
But the issue here is not just watching for the Lord's return, sudden as it may be. But it is more about being watchful about who the owner is. The master of the house. The one to whom we belong. The one who has ultimate control of our eternal destiny. No elf-on-the-shelf, our Lord is the one who has the ultimate power to decide our fate.
As I said, we are in the in-between time. We are watching and waiting. But part of falling asleep, is giving into the lie our stupor creates that tells us we are the owner. The lie that we are the one in control. The lie that we are the master of the house. The lie that we belong only to ourselves. If you fall asleep in that way, you will truly be surprised when the owner arrives, and the little world of entitlement you built around yourself all falls down.
The other part of being on watch, as I mentioned earlier, is to be watchful of ourselves so that we don't fall into some calamity of sin. I think I've already made enough of a case about those who have fallen asleep morally and are now paying dearly for that sleeping.
But their immorality doesn’t effect just them. It's their families. Their colleagues. Their constituents. Their viewers. We tax payers who have ended up picking up the tab for the payouts to the women they have harmed.
If they had just watched. If they had just been alert against temptation and sin. If they had just been awake to what they were doing.
But it's not just them, is it. It's all of us. All of us who are asleep instead of awake and alert.
That's what this season of Advent is all about. It's about waking up! The Lord, the Master, the Owner is coming. And the Lord has expectations about our alertness and our watchfulness. Begin now. Let these four weeks, prior to Christmas Day, be your time to wake up and watch; to no longer sleep.
Mark 13:32-37
I'm guessing, from what little history I've read, the world has always been crazy. And by world, I mean people. Animals can just be animals. Plants can just be plants. They seem to exist by different rules than we humans do. Animals have instincts. Plants have photosynthesis.
But we humans. We have free will. We have hormones. We have emotions. We have imaginations. We have drives. We have motivations. There's so much that goes into being human, and all of that can end up being one big bad.
I wonder if in any and every era, the people of that time think, "Man, can it get any worse than it is now?" Do we all wonder if we live in the worst of times? As Charles Dickens started his book, Tale of Two Cities, from a previous era:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…
And that's the trouble. It's all a mix. It's not all bad. But it certainly is not all good either.
Just prior to the statements Jesus makes that were read in Mark 13, he talks about "that day and hour," and "in those days" and, "at that time." Jesus went on to describe what those days and hours and times will be like.
It will be a mix. The bad part of the mix is how everything falls apart. This is how Jesus described it:
the sun will be darkened
the moon will not shine
the stars will fall from the sky
the heavenly bodies will be shaken
In other words, the world is going to be like a completed jigsaw puzzle that is broken apart, separated back into individual pieces, put back in the box, and shelved.
I have the idea that Jesus was not just talking about the literal elements of our universe. Certainly, it would be catastrophic if the sun didn't shine. All of our sources of food would die with no sun light, and we would be frozen to death from no warmth. The stars falling and the heavenly bodies being shaken is a description of total destabilization. Think of it…we measure and gauge everything we call permanent by the stars and planets and heavenly bodies. People, ever since there were people have been looking up at this stars and seeing the same thing. We have devised time itself (not only on our watches, but on our calendars) by the sun and the moon. To lose the sun and moon would be to lose total track of time.
But there's another way to look at Jesus' statements. Especially that "the stars will fall from the sky." How many "stars" have fallen in the last weeks, due to sexual misconduct? How many of the mighty have fallen?
Jesus was right when he said in one of the other gospels, "What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight. What you have whispered to someone behind closed doors will be shouted from the rooftops" (Luke 12:3). What are we learning from all the women who are now shouting from the rooftops about what has happened to them in secret at the hands of men we may have admired or looked up to for leadership and a good word?
The stars are truly falling from the sky. But have such stars not always fallen from their lofty perches? Donald Trump may have thought he was right, when he was caught on tape, making his own lewd comments to Billy Bush about his sexual attitude towards women: Trump said, "When you're a star, they (meaning women) let you do it. You can do anything." Is that how all the "stars" think? That they have some sort of entitlement!? Enamored by their own twinkling?
But what Jesus said was, when you're a star, you will fall from the sky, and it will be your worst day, leading to an even worse life. You can't do anything you want. There are consequences. You will fall. You who think you are stars.
And as Humpty Dumpty found out after his "great fall," "…all the king's men and all the king's horses couldn't put Humpty together again."
Three times in his little sermon, Jesus used the word, "watch." Whenever a word is used a number of times, you better pay attention. Which is what the word "watch" means. Pay attention. Be vigilant. Be awake. Be alert. Always give your full attention. Watch!
Jesus contrasted the word, "watch" with the word, "asleep." It's a powerful word. It doesn't mean just sleeping. In the case of this word, being asleep means giving in to a certain laziness about your faith. To be asleep means being lazy towards the sin that tempts you throughout your life. Being asleep means being indifferent about your salvation. Being asleep means being spiritually dead.
Being indifferent means succumbing to a low interest about your beliefs. Being indifferent means having only a smidgen of concern about your spiritual self. Being indifferent means not caring deeply about much of anything, let alone your faith. Being indifferent means being apathetic about your salvation No big deal.
This is an easy season to become lazy and indifferent to our faith. It's an easy time to lose total attention to the depth of the true story of Christmas. This is an easy time to take a shallow dive, stay just below the surface where the alternate story has no real, or lasting consequence in your life. During that time where we allow ourselves to be immersed in the alternate reality of the secular Christmas stories, we get truly lulled to sleep.
We fall asleep from the story of Santa and the elves, rather than remain fully awake and vigilant to the angels who sing out Good News. We fall asleep as we float on the surface stories about Rudolph's red nose guiding Santa's sleigh rather than remaining alert to the depth of the story of a guiding star, leading three wisemen to the Christ-child. We fall asleep in the dreamy mythology of the North Pole, rather than immerse ourselves in the watchfulness of a small town place called Bethlehem. We fall asleep waiting for Santa rather than give our full attention to the birth of the blessed Christ child, the Savior of the World. We are more worried about what the Elf on the Shelf thinks of us rather than be alert to the ever watchful God who has totally immersed himself in this story and into our world at Christmas.
It is so easy to be lulled asleep this time of year, than being at high alert. To fall asleep, in all its meanings, is to succumb to our own peril. So, being watchful has to do with two fronts. We have to be watchful for the Lord's coming. And we have to be on the alert for any form of calamity of sin we so easily sleep into that would keep us from seeing Jesus.
Jesus said, in this sermon, to be watchful for the "master of the house." The word literally means Lord. It describes the one to whom a person or a thing belongs. The owner—the Lord—is the one who has ultimate control. The Lord is the one who has the power to decide.
In Jesus’ sermon, in this parable, Jesus describes a time when the owner goes away, putting others in charge. Those others are us. The faithful. The obedient. The followers. The ones owned. The ones who, presumably, know our place. Who feel no sense of entitlement, thinking we can grab whomever and whatever we want. Who know we are not stars who can do as we please, but who wish only to do as our Lord pleases.
We are in that time when the Lord of the place is away. During his time away, we have responsibility for the owners work. We are in that in-between time. We are in that odd time between yet, and not yet. We are waiting for the owner to return. We are to live in such a way that we are watchful for the Lord's return, and live as if we are watchful and not asleep.
But the issue here is not just watching for the Lord's return, sudden as it may be. But it is more about being watchful about who the owner is. The master of the house. The one to whom we belong. The one who has ultimate control of our eternal destiny. No elf-on-the-shelf, our Lord is the one who has the ultimate power to decide our fate.
As I said, we are in the in-between time. We are watching and waiting. But part of falling asleep, is giving into the lie our stupor creates that tells us we are the owner. The lie that we are the one in control. The lie that we are the master of the house. The lie that we belong only to ourselves. If you fall asleep in that way, you will truly be surprised when the owner arrives, and the little world of entitlement you built around yourself all falls down.
The other part of being on watch, as I mentioned earlier, is to be watchful of ourselves so that we don't fall into some calamity of sin. I think I've already made enough of a case about those who have fallen asleep morally and are now paying dearly for that sleeping.
But their immorality doesn’t effect just them. It's their families. Their colleagues. Their constituents. Their viewers. We tax payers who have ended up picking up the tab for the payouts to the women they have harmed.
If they had just watched. If they had just been alert against temptation and sin. If they had just been awake to what they were doing.
But it's not just them, is it. It's all of us. All of us who are asleep instead of awake and alert.
That's what this season of Advent is all about. It's about waking up! The Lord, the Master, the Owner is coming. And the Lord has expectations about our alertness and our watchfulness. Begin now. Let these four weeks, prior to Christmas Day, be your time to wake up and watch; to no longer sleep.
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